Losing my cool, I shoved him out of the way, and kicked the number plate of Shane’s car. “Hey!” Shane roared, rolling down his tinted window. “Get a handle on your doll, Lynchy, or I will.” “I’d like to see you try, asshole,” I screamed back at the big bastard, and then I flung my phone at his windscreen for good measure. “I’m not afraid of you!”
